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- Колин Маккалоу
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- Поющие в терновнике
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- Стр. 354/535
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No
amount
of
argument
prevailed
with
Canberra
;
properties
as
large
as
Bugela
and
Rudna
Hunish
would
be
partitioned
.
It
was
self-evident
no
man
needed
so
much
,
since
the
Gilly
district
had
many
thriving
stations
of
less
than
50,000
acres
.
What
hurt
the
most
was
the
knowledge
that
this
time
it
seemed
the
returned
soldiers
would
persevere
.
After
the
First
World
War
most
of
the
big
stations
had
gone
through
the
same
partial
resumption
,
but
it
had
been
poorly
done
,
the
fledgling
graziers
without
training
or
experience
;
gradually
the
squatters
bought
their
filched
acres
back
at
rock-bottom
prices
from
discouraged
veterans
.
This
time
the
government
was
prepared
to
train
and
educate
the
new
settlers
at
its
own
expense
.
Almost
all
the
squatters
were
avid
members
of
the
Country
Party
,
and
on
principle
loathed
a
Labor
government
,
identifying
it
with
blue-collar
workers
in
industrial
cities
,
trade
unions
and
feckless
Marxist
intellectuals
.
The
unkindest
cut
of
all
was
to
find
that
the
Clearys
,
who
were
known
Labor
voters
,
were
not
to
see
a
single
acre
pared
from
the
formidable
bulk
of
Drogheda
.
Since
the
Catholic
Church
owned
it
,
naturally
it
was
subdivision-exempt
.
The
howl
was
heard
in
Canberra
,
but
ignored
.
It
came
very
hard
to
the
squatters
,
who
always
thought
of
themselves
as
the
most
powerful
lobby
group
in
the
nation
,
to
find
that
he
who
wields
the
Canberra
whip
does
pretty
much
as
he
likes
.
Australia
was
heavily
federal
,
its
state
governments
virtually
powerless
.
Thus
,
like
a
giant
in
a
Lilliputian
world
,
Drogheda
carried
on
,
all
quarter
of
a
million
acres
of
it
.
*
*
*
The
rain
came
and
went
,
sometimes
adequate
,
sometimes
too
much
,
sometimes
too
little
,
but
not
,
thank
God
,
ever
another
drought
like
the
great
one
.
Gradually
the
number
of
sheep
built
up
and
the
quality
of
the
wool
improved
over
pre-drought
times
,
no
mean
feat
.
Breeding
was
the
"
in
"
thing
.
People
talked
of
Haddon
Rig
near
Warren
,
started
actively
competing
with
its
owner
,
Max
Falkiner
,
for
the
top
ram
and
ewe
prizes
at
the
Royal
Easter
Show
in
Sydney
.
And
the
price
of
wool
began
to
creep
up
,
then
skyrocketed
.
Europe
,
the
United
States
and
Japan
were
hungry
for
every
bit
of
fine
wool
Australia
could
produce
.
Other
countries
yielded
coarser
wools
for
heavy
fabrics
,
carpets
,
felts
;
but
only
the
long
,
silky
fibers
from
Australian
merinos
could
make
a
woolen
textile
so
fine
it
slipped
through
the
fingers
like
softest
lawn
.
And
that
sort
of
wool
reached
its
peak
out
on
the
black-soil
plains
of
northwest
New
South
Wales
and
southwest
Queensland
.
It
was
as
if
after
all
the
years
of
tribulation
,
a
just
reward
had
arrived
.
Drogheda
's
profits
soared
out
of
all
imagination
.
Millions
of
pounds
every
year
.
Fee
sat
at
her
desk
radiating
contentment
,
Bob
put
another
two
stockmen
on
the
books
.
If
it
had
n't
been
for
the
rabbits
,
pastoral
conditions
would
have
been
ideal
,
but
the
rabbits
were
as
much
of
a
blight
as
ever
.
On
the
homestead
life
was
suddenly
very
pleasant
.
The
wire
screening
had
excluded
flies
from
all
Drogheda
interiors
;
now
that
it
was
up
and
everyone
had
grown
used
to
its
appearance
,
they
wondered
how
they
had
ever
survived
without
it
.
For
there
were
multiple
compensations
for
the
look
of
it
,
like
being
able
to
eat
al
fresco
on
the
veranda
when
it
was
very
hot
,
under
the
tapping
leaves
of
the
wistaria
vine
.
The
frogs
loved
the
screening
,
too
.
Little
fellows
they
were
,
green
with
a
delicate
overlay
of
glossy
gold
.
On
suckered
feet
they
crept
up
the
outside
of
the
mesh
to
stare
motionless
at
the
diners
,
very
solemn
and
dignified
.
Suddenly
one
would
leap
,
grab
at
a
moth
almost
bigger
than
itself
,
and
settle
back
into
inertia
with
two-thirds
of
the
moth
flapping
madly
out
of
its
overladen
mouth
.
It
amused
Dane
and
Justine
to
time
how
long
it
took
a
frog
to
swallow
a
big
moth
completely
,
staring
gravely
through
the
wire
and
every
ten
minutes
getting
a
little
more
moth
down
.
The
insect
lasted
a
long
time
,
and
would
often
still
be
kicking
when
the
final
piece
of
wingtip
was
engulfed
.
